


Milo

by Rennen



Series: OCs [11]
Category: My own lmao
Genre: Bad Poetry, But I want people to know what theyre getting into, But the act will be referenced and is a major plot point, I am NOT going to write graphic sexual abuse, Poetry, The rape non con is kind of a spoiler, youve been warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-02-22 22:29:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23201398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rennen/pseuds/Rennen
Summary: How did he end up at this point?
Series: OCs [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1638256
Kudos: 1





	1. The Huntsman

Why do these things keep happening to me?  
Is this simply how things are?  
I don't accept such an answer.  
Humans are human because they think beyond their own instincts.  
So why  
does this keep happening to me?

Animals,  
they're all _animals_.  
Do they truly lack such common sense?  
What should I do?  
I don't know what to do.  
Why is  
_s o c i e t y_ so twisted?

I don't know why these things keep happening to me,  
but I can feel my sanity tearing into shreds.  
Everywhere I go,  
I can never escape their eyes.  
They stare into me,  
as if I am nothing more than an object.  
They are animals.  
If I am to survive,

I will take advice from those long ago.  
I will  
_k i l l_ them.  
Their me at is my trophy,  
their d eath is my award.


	2. Interview with Milo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking to Milo

My name is Milo,  
I'm the one that killed them all.  
I tore their bodies apart into scraps.  
You want to know why?  
Ok, I'll tell you.

They say on the news,  
there's a serial killer on the loose.  
He targets both men and women,  
but mostly men.  
He kills them in brutal torturous ways,  
and when the killer is done,  
he mutilates their genitals.  
No one knows why he does this every single time,  
some think it may be pleasurable to him.  
Or perhaps,  
he hates genitals?

I hate them, of course.  
What do you take me for?  
Sure I'm a killer,  
but even I'm not that crazy.  
Why do I hate them?  
I'll tell you.  
It's because  
they can be used as a weapon.

At first the killer's victims seemed totally random,  
but after investigating the victims backgrounds,  
a pattern was found.  
Every victim had a history of acts of sexual assault on others.  
I was like them once,  
the people they hurt.  
Most people stay quiet about those things,  
they think they cannot speak about it.  
If they can't speak for themselves,  
I'll just do it for them.


	3. Andrea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Milo tries to look out for his coworker, Andrea.

Her name was Andrea.  
She's not dead or anything,  
but I just don't talk to her anymore.  
We worked together.  
She was a timid type,  
she would fidget and never talk back.  
I was annoyed,   
not at her,  
but at the people around her.  
The guys I worked with all seemed to have a thing for Andrea.  
But the way they expressed their interest was…  
rude.  
They would bug her and harrass her,  
pick on her.  
It was so immature.  
If they weren't picking on her,  
they'd be treating her like she was fragile.  
It was like watching the pure stereotype of a macho man porn.

I'd killed by this point.  
The police were after me,  
but they didn't know who I was.  
I didn't particularly know Andrea,  
but I felt like I needed to look out for her.  
To do so, I started chatting her up and being a good coworker/friend.  
All the guys in our section wanted to throw a party for finishing the big project,  
they wanted beer and drinking games and other crap.  
Of course, Andrea was pressured into going to the party with them.

I drugged the first guy.  
I slipped it into his drink when he wasn't looking.  
Andrea was on the floor, unconscious.  
You probably knew where this story was going,   
the guys got drunk and started fighting over Andrea.  
They were so immature.  
They started getting physical and Andrea got dragged into the fray,   
She took a wild left hook to the face.  
When the guy realized he'd punched her he started freaking out,  
telling her he was sorry and that he didn't mean to hit her.  
But Andrea was unconscious,  
she can't hear you, idiot.

Andrea was still on the floor at this point,  
I left her alone and dragged the guys all into the bar storage room.  
Then I tied them up to some poles that went from the ceiling to the floor.  
I figured I didn't have much time,  
so I started going at it when they weren't awake.  
Normally I'd wait,  
read a book or something,  
so they would be awake during.  
But you don't always get what you want.  
Needless to say,  
I tore them apart.

Andrea woke up at some point and wandered towards the screaming coming from the storage room.  
She saw something pretty crazy in there.  
She was so shocked she couldn't move,  
she couldn't even blink.  
I looked up at her when she was in the doorway,  
I smiled at her.  
She called the police and I got taken away.  
That's the story of the time I got caught,  
and how I ended up here.


	4. Interview with Milo 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Milo expresses his thoughts.

When I asked him, "Why?" he only stared at me.  
It was a mocking stare, like he thought I was an idiot for asking.  
I got irritated, and asked him again.  
He responded this time,  
though it was not the response I ever expected.  
His answer was simply,  
"Because you all failed."

When I told him to elaborate,  
he smiled at me.  
It was a bitter smile with no humor,  
that same mocking stare.  
"I can't imagine being so unaware of yourselves."  
Then he made a face like he heard a good joke,  
and sat up straighter and looked me in the eye.  
"You want to know? That's a start at least."  
I figured if I stay quiet he would talk eventually,  
and he did.

"I ended up here because of you. No, not You specifically. You as a group. You all."  
I asked him what he meant by "you all."  
"The police force, idiot."  
I was startled by the tone coming from this normally composed and classy man.  
"It's because of you. You always ask all these stupid questions, sit there shuffling papers,  
but when's the last time you did anything useful?"  
I could feel his hate  
it was rolling off him in waves.  
"There's people right in front of you every single day,  
they get hit,  
they get robbed,  
they even get trafficked.  
And what have you done for them?"  
He leaned forward, I could tell his rant wasn't over yet.  
"You all don't care. You want the shiny badge but don't want to work. You'd rather shoot people that are innocent than shoot the killer."  
He leaned back in his chair, tipping it backwards a little.  
"They are right in front of you. Abuse, murder, crime. But you don't notice until your precious papers are filed, or until someone dies."  
…

"You ask me, "Why did you do it?" But you never ask how things came to be this way. With such a shitty police force, how are you surprised someone like me exists?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Milo's opinions do not reflect my own. Milo is a character. This isn't some anti-police propoganda.


	5. Archer Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She appeared from nowhere.

It was 26 years ago,  
in a little forest village.  
I was a kid back then,  
I lived under an old grandpa of the village.  
We lived a dangerous life,  
all kinds of wild beasts roamed our forest.  
I was doing the things all kids in my village did,  
playing, and learning how to survive for the future.  
Our games would involve survival tactics to win,  
that's how they taught us.  
But that old man we lived under,  
he was a very bad man.  
I'm an adult now, so I suppose there is no reason to dance around the topic.

He molested us.

A very bad man.  
Scum, trash, disgusting.  
Everynight someone was his plaything.  
It was enough to drive a kid to hatred,  
fear, sorrow.  
It was enough to drive a kid to murder.  
All of us wanted him gone,  
to never see that disgusting face again.  
I knew those adults wouldn't do anything,  
so I did it myself.

Or, I would have done it myself, if she didn't beat me to it.  
That archer woman.  
She appeared out of nowhere,  
took all our elder's hearts.  
She brought back pounds upon pounds of game everytime she returned from the forest.  
She could cook it,  
strip it down,  
do it all.  
She was incredible.  
It should've tipped us off,  
she was too amazing.  
She must be hiding something,  
warrior women only exist in novels.  
But here she was,  
standing in front of our eyes,  
bow in hand,  
not a drop of blood staining her clothes.  
She was the perfect hunter.

The perfect hunter,  
because none of us ever knew that she was hunting our own.  
She wanted him,  
the disgusting old man.

She knew.  
Somehow, she knew.  
With her eyes that seemed to stare straight through you,  
she had stared through that old man.  
He died a week after she showed up.   
His cabin was red, bright red.  
There was no body,  
Only his clothes.  
All the kids had been playing,  
and like the wind she had taken him away.  
We never saw her again,  
all we had were the piles of meat she had caught for us.  
As if she were saying, "Thank you."


End file.
